Psychiatric Volatile
by Witch Of Hope
Summary: It wasn't my fault I didn't have the most perfect hearing as of a month ago. A car accident with a drunk driver can do that to you. As my parents said it, I was mentally unable to keep up with anything anymore. I was home-schooled, or as I liked to call it- hospital-schooled.
1. Chapter 1

The beeps coming from the heart monitor seemed to distract me from the recent news of death and sorrow. The beeps were _mine_. The heart monitor produced them, but they were mine. I couldn't tell if they were healthy or not. Maybe I would be the next one to die. My funeral would only hold my relatives and the very few friends I've managed to keep for the few years I was in school.

As I went on and on in my mind about my death, I didn't notice the door open and close with a soft click. It wasn't my fault I didn't have the most perfect hearing as of a month ago. A car accident with a drunk driver can do that to you. As my parents said it, I was mentally unable to keep up with anything anymore. I was home-schooled, or as I liked to call it- hospital-schooled. Thanks to that accident everyone saw me as someone who was mentally enable to do anything I use to be able to. That was a load of bull. I was able to do even more than I could before, but sometimes my hearing got a little fuzzy. By a little, I meant a lot. Little kids would yell _'I can't hear you!_' as a joke. I, on the other hand, actually couldn't hear you when my mind flipped out and the hearing portion broke down.

Did I mention the brain damage? Yeah, well, thank you drunk driving. I use to have mental melt downs every five hours, but now it only happened every week or so. My teachers didn't take them well either. I was sent home every day around 5th period thanks to them. Wasn't my fault my brain fried after lunch. The information was just too much to handle. My dad seemed to be ticked off every time he saw me freak out.

One of my old friends told me that I was cute, and if it wasn't for the melt downs and loss of hearing, everyone would hang around me. I knew that wasn't the truth. It was my personality they didn't like. I could scream insults at them for hours on hours on hours. It wasn't my fault the world had something against me, and that was all I could do to express myself. I didn't mind shouting at people either. Insults slid off of my tongue without hesitation. Why hesitant when I knew exactly what I was saying?

In that very moment, my mind decided it didn't like being normal and flipped out. My body limbs were flying everywhere and out of my control. Before I knew it, I was screaming at the top of my lungs. I was surprised that my limbs were still attached to me, and that I hadn't hurt my vocal cords yelling this loud. It took my older brother to calm me down. He was the lucky one. He didn't have these breakdowns, and Dad loved him. So did Mom. I could see the way it hurt them to look at me like this. It really hurt me as well, but they couldn't see that.

I didn't know how long had passed since my breakdown, and I didn't care. They were forcing me to go back to that stupid school. That school contained the jocks that made my life a living Hell. The main one, Dave Strider, had pushed me so hard once that I had a meltdown out of my usual routine. I don't think he actually cared if he ticked off someone outside of his group of friends. To be honest, I was a little happy that my older brother played football. Sometimes I got to go to lunch with him, and I got into football games free. I sat down on the bench with the other players, but I didn't go out on the field. I just got to sit in the player seats due to my condition.

My mind was distracted from the present, so I didn't notice we were out of my hospital room until a bit later. I asked my dad where we were going over and over again, but he didn't reply. I could see his knuckles turn white against the wheel. I knew then that I should calm down and stop asking, but did I? No. No because I wanted to know where they taking me. I didn't want to go to another hospital. All of the hospitals sucked ass. They all treated me the same. _Oh, little boy, please calm down. _I hated them and the way they talked to me. I was capable of more thoughts than them!

Where I was now was much worse than any other hospital around the world. School. To be exact, my old school. It seemed like my mind was freaking out more today than any other day. I was completely silent and frozen in my seat. I didn't want to go in there. I really didn't, but who would listen to me?

No one was the answer. No one wanted to listen to someone with brain damage, and end up being called stupid. So I was stuck with no one to listen to me. That was the way things worked in this world, and it wasn't my fault. It sure did feel like it though.

Before I knew it, my feet were padding along beside my brother's. I couldn't stop them from moving because my brain decided that I held no power over my feet. I knew I was leaning on Kankri, my brother, to keep from falling over though. I knew a lot of things. My mind went blank for a minute, but when it focused again I was screaming my head off.

_"Wha's rong? You want yer Mommie?" he held out the word '_Mommie_' and his breath had a horrid smell to it._

_ "No, but I'm sure you could use some mouthwash." That earned me a punch in the stomach. _

_ "Shut yer mouth, ye useless vermin." I didn't understand how anyone could possibly understand him. _

_ "Stop picking on the mental kid," that came from someone else. "I already had dibs on that."_

_ Oh. Oh no. Not this asshole._


	2. Chapter 2

"_Stop picking on the mental kid," that came from someone else. "I already had dibs on that."_

_ Oh. Oh no. Not this asshole._

_ I didn't understand how my luck could be so bad that I had to run into Dave Strider another time. He had already beaten me up once today. Wasn't that enough? No. Of course it wasn't. Not for Dave Strider. He would probably beat me over and over again until my brain didn't have the energy to melt down._

_ Speaking of my brain, it was about time for the hourly melt down. I could hear the two bullies- my two bullies- fighting over who got to bully me. Then. I melted down. I screamed, squealed, whatever you wanted to call it. I was going crazy. That got everyone's attention in the gym. The coach ran it, saw me, saw Dave and the other bully, and dragged us all to the principal's office. That's when Kankri was called down to the office to control me. Not like he could. I couldn't even control me, so why should he be able to? Maybe they just thought he could. That was short lived because when he touched me I got louder. Nothing was going to stop my brain from freaking out this time. _

_At least, that's what I thought before I broke out in a fit of coughing. My throat was aching from screaming at the top of my lungs, and I didn't plan on doing it again this whole day. By that I meant my brain might want to do that again, but there was a slim chance of that happening._

_My attention was drawn back to the certain situation with a snap of fingers belonging to Strider. "Vantas. Yo Vantas. Earth to Vantas. I think his brain finally shut down." That earned him a punch from Kankri, which made me snicker. _

"_I would be better if it weren't for you two numbskulls beating me up for lunch money like middle schoolers. You should know by now that I don't carry lunch money," I snapped back after a moment. "Kankri, I want to leave __**now**__."_

When my eyes focused and my hearing sharpened, I glanced over at Kankri who had stopped walking. He really was an awesome brother, but he was concerned way too much. I zoned out all of the time. Almost like my friend, Gamzee Makara, did. Except he did weed or something, and I have a mental illness that will affect me the rest of my life. We, sort of, cut connections after he got together with Terezi though. He told me that I was controlling her, and I probably was. Past me was an idiot. Future me is sort of an idiot too, but I wouldn't know that since I haven't met him yet.

To be honest, future me is going to be an idiot too. My mental state wasn't going to get any better with the track it's on right now.

"Karkat? Karkat, are you alright?"

"I'm fine so fuck off, asswipe." That was me talking. Not my brain.

"Okay, okay..." Kankri started to walk again. It wasn't my fault that he had stopped in the first place. My meltdowns happened very often.

I told myself that he was just worried. Worried about my future, probably. Who wouldn't be? I didn't have a future in anything, and it was all because of a little drunk driving. It pissed me off knowing that no one would call on me in class because they didn't think I'd be capable of providing an answer. The truth was that I couldn't provide an answer, brain damage or no brain damage. It still made me mad though.

It also sort of scared me to think while in a car, so I hardly ever went anywhere. The hospital was my home half of the time. The other half of the time, I would spend time with my real dad. I called him Stabdad because he always threatened to stab someone. He even stabbed me once. I couldn't say I wasn't expecting that. Everyone else called him Spades Slick though. I didn't get why, but whatever. It was sort of like growing up and expecting everyone to call your mom and dad the exact same name as you call them, but then you figure out that isn't how it works.


End file.
